HP: Card System

Percy, a low-end careerist with ambitions higher than a space station and a life thinner than toilet paper, eventually realized in the original timeline that family was more important than anything else.

But now, there was no Percy—only Peggy Weasley.

Peggy liked pasta and chocolate cake, enjoyed dressing up as a fairy princess, and loved drinking orange juice. She was a lively and whimsical girl. She had started Hogwarts in 1987, two years older than the Weasley twins, four years older than Ted and the others, and was now in her fifth year.

Despite her playful personality, Peggy had excellent grades and had even become a prefect. However, unlike Percy in the original story, she wasn't an annoying rule-enforcer. According to Ron, Peggy was actually kind and had a great relationship with him.

Looks like the butterfly effect was flapping its wings again.

But Harley had grown up with Sirius, Neville had become the Boy-Who-Lived, and now Percy had turned into Peggy. Ted found it strangely amusing.

A ridiculous voice echoed in his head: "Hello, I'm Peggy, and these are my brothers George, Fred, and Ron!"

Ted chuckled to himself. This was going to be interesting.

An hour into the journey, the door of the carriage slid open, and a friendly witch with a sweet smile arrived, pushing a trolley of snacks.

"Would you like something to eat, kids?"

Ron looked away. "Don't look at me, I've got a sandwich."

Jerry shrugged. "I brought bread and cheese."

Ted sighed. "I packed my own food too."

These three were true penny-pinchers.

Hermione, however, was eager to try wizarding snacks. She looked over the selection and frowned. "Why is everything sugar?"

As the daughter of two dentists, she found it a little concerning.

In the end, Hermione and Neville bought a bunch of treats and shared them with everyone. Neville, despite his shy nature, had no shortage of money and was more than happy to share.

Ted pulled out his own food—beef jerky, dried meat floss, and sausages. "Anyone want some?"

Fortunately, he had packed plenty; otherwise, it wouldn't have been enough.

Ron's sandwich was quickly abandoned, and even Scabbers, his pet rat, ignored it. Instead, the little rodent was stuffing its face with Chocolate Frogs.

Ted couldn't help but smirk. After all these years living with the Weasleys, Peter Pettigrew must have suffered terribly.

Ron, much happier with actual food, kept chatting as he ate. The lively conversation helped everyone settle into a more comfortable rhythm.

Neville, growing more confident, introduced his pet toad, Trevor.

In the wizarding world, many wizards kept magical pets that formed special bonds with their owners. These creatures could even help with learning magic or assisting in battles.

Ted had a theory—people who chose toads often had an interest in Potions. Toads had a high resistance to different substances, making them excellent test subjects for potions.

Though, in Neville's case, Ted suspected that poor Trevor might end up in the magical equivalent of an ICU.

Ron lifted his pet rat proudly. "This is my mouse, Scabbers!"

Ted gestured to his own companion, the intelligent raven perched near the window. "And this is Anzu. He understands human speech."

"Caw! Nice to meet you!" Anzu paused mid-bite, bowed slightly, and returned to his beef jerky.

The others stared in amazement.

"He's so smart!" Hermione gasped.

Knowing that Ted, Hermione, and Jerry were still learning about the wizarding world, Ron took the chance to show off his knowledge.

"Ahem! Watch this!" Ron cleared his throat dramatically. "Young yellow, sweet cream and sunshine, turn this stupid fat mouse yellow!"

He flicked his wand.

Scabbers, perhaps startled by the sudden movement, spat a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean right into Ron's face.

Laughter erupted in the carriage.

Before the chuckling had even died down, another burst of laughter came from outside.

The group turned to see a familiar trio standing at the door—Draco Malfoy flanked by his two ever-present cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

Draco, his pale face smug, looked Ron up and down with amusement. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

The sneer on his face said it all. "Red hair, second-hand robes, and now feeding a rat Chocolate Frogs? My father says your family can barely afford to eat. Are you sure you can spare sweets for your pet, Weasley?"

Ron's ears turned bright red.

The mood in the carriage shifted instantly. Even Anzu and Scabbers seemed to bristle at Malfoy's presence.

Looking at Ted and Ron's worn-out robes, Malfoy lifted his chin smugly and sneered at Neville. "Are you sure you want to associate with this lot? Poor blood-traitors and filthy mudbloods?"

"My father always says that one should be careful when choosing friends. Maybe you need someone of noble status, Longbottom?" He extended his hand, offering a fake smile.

Neville, under the weight of everyone's gaze, fidgeted nervously. He shrank back into the corner but still managed to stammer, "I—I don't want to be friends with you… My gran says I shouldn't play with Malfoys."

His tone was hesitant, but his meaning was crystal clear—like a child proudly proclaiming, "My mom said I shouldn't play with idiots."

Malfoy's face twisted in offense, going pale before flushing red. He hadn't expected rejection.

Malfoy: I finally opened my heart, and you stomped all over it!

"Y-You… No wonder people call you the dim-witted savior!" he snapped.

Jerking his hand back, he wiped it against his robes as if even the act of offering friendship had sullied him.

At that moment, one of his bulky lackeys—either Crabbe or Goyle, who could tell the difference?—reached out to grab some of the snacks on the table. Before he could snatch anything, Scabbers the rat sank his teeth into the thief's hand with a sharp chomp!

"Ow!" The oaf yelped, recoiling in surprise and stumbling straight into his companion, creating a clumsy commotion.

Ted smirked. Well done, Peter.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Ted flicked his wand subtly. Malfoy's legs suddenly caught on something unseen, and he tumbled backward onto the floor with a loud thud!

Before he could scramble up, a shadow loomed over him.

It was Harley Potter—the wild girl who had been making Malfoy's life miserable since they were kids.

"Malfoy, do you like lying on the ground that much?" she asked, adjusting her black-rimmed glasses with an amused grin. "You keep embarrassing yourself. If you don't want another punch, I'd suggest you clear off."

She cracked her knuckles in front of his face for emphasis.

Malfoy scrambled up in a panic, bolting out of the compartment with Crabbe and Goyle hot on his heels.

Malfoy: This isn't over! I'll tell my father about this! I'll be back!

Ted couldn't help but chuckle. Considering what he had seen back in Diagon Alley, Malfoy must have received a lot of "justice" growing up.

Harley, noticing Ted's amused look, grinned back. She then spotted Neville and decided to plop down next to him without asking.

And just like that, their four-person carriage was now packed with six people.

Hermione, meanwhile, was still mentally adjusting to her new reality—especially with Harley.

Aside from the signature black hair, glasses, and lightning bolt scar, there was nothing similar to the Harley from the original timeline. This Harry was a live-wire bandit—loud, confident, and entirely unrestrained. She was a big sister type, effortlessly chatting with Ted, Hermione, and Jerry as if they had been friends for years.

As Gorky once said: Suffering is the best university in life.

Harley, who had been through so much, carried herself with an entirely different kind of presence. Who knew where this version of her would end up?

After a while, Harley and Ron started an intense match of Wizard's Chess, while Neville and Jerry attempted to coax Anzu into talking.

Meanwhile, Hermione turned to Ted, bringing up a more serious topic.

"I read about You-Know-Who," she said, lowering her voice. "Why does no one say his name? What's so dangerous about it?"

Ted absentmindedly spun a small fitness ball in his hands. "Names in the wizarding world have power. I think it's tied to that."

Neville, upon hearing the mention of the Dark Lord, visibly tensed, as if the weight of an unseen burden had settled onto his shoulders.

The others turned to him.

"It's best—really best—not to say his name out loud," Neville said seriously. "My gran told me that the Dark Lord enchanted his own name. If someone speaks it, he'll know."

Hermione frowned, a little unnerved. "But… he's dead, isn't he?"

Ted shrugged. "Voldemort. His name was Voldemort. But I bet that's not his real name."

The second Ted spoke the name aloud, Harley, Ron, and Neville all sucked in a sharp breath. If global warming existed in the wizarding world, they had just contributed to it.

Voldemort had placed a "real name detection" spell on his nickname. Not only did it allow him to track people who spoke of him, but it also fueled his power through fear—an incredibly advanced and insidious tactic.

That was why wizards avoided saying his name. Those who understood the spell dodged it, and those who didn't were simply too scared.

Honestly, though, Ted thought wizards were far too rigid in their thinking. This spell was easy to counter if approached from the right angle.

If it were up to him? He'd leak Voldemort's name into the Muggle world. Frame him for something and get his name plastered all over the news.

Within days, tens of millions of people would be saying his name nonstop.

There was no way Voldemort could handle that much magical feedback. Either he'd short-circuit himself into oblivion or be forced to shut off the detection spell entirely.

Either way? Problem solved.

Sometimes, wizards really do overcomplicated things.

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Word count: 1634